


Hydra Trash Kink Fills

by Sinsrose



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Biting, Bloodplay, Bruises, Dubious Consent, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Vomiting, i dont know anymore, piano wire as bondage, piss drinking, seriously, why the fuck did i write this?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinsrose/pseuds/Sinsrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeah... I really want to read something where Rumlow is itching to go to the bathroom but uses Winter Soldier's mouth instead.</p><p>For extra trashywrongness, Rumlow pinching Winter Soldier's nose so he can't breathe and chokes/splutters/coughs his way through it. Rumlow starting soft but finishing with an erection that Winter Soldier has to deal with too. And for this entire ordeal concluding with Winter Soldier on his knees, doubled over, retching up everything he's been forced to swallow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It's not that it becomes a habit no. It's in times of desperation. It's when missions leave them with no where else to really go. Sometimes it happens on accident, sometimes it doesn't. More than often, it's not an accident, it's never really an accident. Considering the way that Hydra is built, the way they rise from pain.It happens after a mission. The pressure in his lower regions, the feeling of being full. The need to piss. The way that one needs to use the bathroom, and they just need to go. It was either him being a sadist or him being lazy- most of the time it isn't the lather. He knows damn well what he is doing, using the soldier for something he shouldn't be. Though he's been made to take orders, there's still traces of humanity left in the little toy solider.

Conditioning doesn't always work to the fullest but he's here to prove that one at least wrong. Which explains, why he has the asset kneeling on the ground. Knees pressing into the cold ground of one of the rooms they're in. Technically they aren't even done with the mission. He can see specks of blood on the asset's frame, from the body count. None the less though, Rumlow purses his lips for a moment, eyes giving another look to the soldier kneeling on the ground.

He can see the slight shivering, the slight tremble, which is uncommon, its not noticeable, barely. You really had to be looking at the asset to notice the shaking. "You're going to be a good little toy solider and stay still understand?" Rumlow's voice has the evident command in it, it's evident that the command is strong. Eyes filtering to look at the soldier. If anything the asset is bracing himself for it.

"And you're going to swallow. "

It's fumbled movements, the swift-movement of a zipper. Undoing of jeans, and pulling out his cock. It's swelled from having the need to piss. Not from having an erection. It's time like this mid-mission that events like this occur, where there's no bathroom, so he just makes the other swallow. It's inhuman, and more than a little fucked up making someone swallow your piss. But part of Rumlow, does get off from seeing the other swallow it down.

Speaking of that asset, it takes him about ten seconds to realize that's not cum dripping from his dick, and the eyes are almost a plead of no-.. His mouth remaining closed at first.Rumlow has to laugh he really does. "You can either let me piss, or we can have your dead body on the floor." Though it's a threat, it's not like it would happen. The chances of people trying to kill them, are slim, compared to asset killing them.

None the less irritation is leaking into his features, and his fingers latch onto the others nose. Fingers pinching it, to hold the airways closed, making him have to breathe through his mouth. Making him have to swallow. There's an evident struggle in his eyes- he'll need a wiping later, but he stays still despite the fire in them. Rumlow takes his cock in his other hand, and slowly slips it into the others mouth- well almost slips it into the others mouth. It's horrid really. His cock, damp with piss rubbing against the other's lips.

"Get used to it bitch, you're going to be stomaching that tonight." The asset's eyes flutter closed, and his stomach lurches, his stomach lurches and he can feel it, eyes not opening back up. It's hard to breath with the other holding his nose, so he exhales, with his mouth, and he wants to gag upon doing so, at the first strike of piss hitting the inside of his mouth. It's warm bitter, and leaves a taste, one that will be lasting weeks in his mouth.

It doesn't get better. It gets worse feeling the piss trickle down the back of your mouth, head held upwards, fingers holding your nose. It makes you squirm, and the asset knows he's going to dry heave. His fingers digging into his own knees in an attempt to finish what he's been told to do. Nails digging into his flesh, eyes closed, trying not to choke. Which happens when Rumlow shoves his cock that was aiming and pissing into his mouth, into his said mouth.

The soldier has to not let himself gag, because he can clearly taste the piss sharper now, and to the point he wants to scream. There's a fight in him but he refrains from moving, thinking or talking.It feels like hours when it does stop, and by then it feels like he had just inhaled piss, the corners of his mouth- lips dribbling the liquid slightly.

A few times during the pissing he had started to choke, tears forming in the corner of his eyes that had made, Rumlow pause, and pull his cock from his mouth, fingers of his free hand covering the soldier's mouth to make sure he swallowed it, before pissing again. It was controlled movements from Rumlow, it wasn't the first time he did it to the asset. When it's done. The corners of his lips- the soldier's are stained with piss, and parts of his clothing from when he had started choking on it and Rumlow had pulled his pissing dick from his mouth.

"Finish your mission." It's the only words spoken by Rumlow, before pulling his jeans back up, and heading out. Releasing the soldier from the hold, and as soon as he does that, the asset doubles over coughing and choking. It's evident the taste in his mouth, he couldn't deal with. Part of the liquid still held in his mouth, he starts to cough, cough in desperation, and the coughing turns into him heeling over dry heaving.

 

Slumping over into the mess on the floor, he's trembling and shaking, and feels disgusting, and somewhere in the distance he hears laughing, and he closes his eyes, but can't get that taste out of his mouth.


	2. Clockwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow is the one who gets tied up, beaten and then thoroughly fucked by the Winter Soldier.

Rumlow's bones are aching and are  **B L A C K** and  **B L U E** by the end of this. Whatever this is. He can't exactly call it a fuck-. No. The soldier isn't allowed at all to call it such things. Or the asset rather, what they call him at least. He was just listening to his _master_ like a good _dog_ should. A good dog that wants a bone to play with, or at least wants to be pampered. A fucked system really. Zolo could be to blame for that, the devil of a man had trained the asset to what he was.   
  
None the less an exhale leaves the soldier's lips. Lips chapped, slightly bloody from the catching of teeth across his upper and lower lip. His eyes gazing upon matters that he really shouldn't be gazing upon, it's not a target, it's not a mission. Just rather a job to break the new squads in as his master puts it. The man that rewards him if he does more than just suck his cock. The mechincal hand sweeps to pull his hair from his eyes, another drag of breath escaping him. Really it's simple clockwork by now, doing this. He's almost mechincal honestly.   
  
His feet moving slow, a soft pad, fingers tracing of the skin exposed and marred with black and blue marks. Despite the fact he is not supposed to show emotions or anything of that matter. A tilted twisted smirk almost seems to etch on the soldier's features. Almost a gleeful response from the bruises and blood, in some twisted sense they've trained him to like causing pain or seeing black and blues and purples color a body, or body bag. His fingers of his metallic arm, pressing into the skin hard enough that the other yelps, and lets out a hissing noise from his clenched teeth. He has no human response to that, but to only press harder across the flesh.  
  
Bruises mare almost everywhere across the skin. From teeth sunk too far into the skin, lacerations and cuts that had made his skin bleed, there had even been a knife that had slipped across the skin. Piano wire had been the rather cruel means of bondage, sinking into the flesh, but he had been delicate enough to make sure the other hadn't lost his hands from the wire. Though the bleeding is evident, and there will be pillars needed to cut it off. None the less though the body is bare and twisted to the soldier's liking, legs pulled backwards to leave him exposed.   
  
There's bruises and beaten marks across the skin everywhere that was possible. His hand dips lower pressing on another mark harder, another hiss escaping the other's lips. A coy almost diluted smirk coming across his features. But none the less, the wandering hands are long lived, considering the fact that wandering fingers are replaced by a cock that has been in Rumlow, more times than one can count tonight.   
  
And the exhale that the STRIKE agent makes when the soldier, pushes in again, no prep needed because it's slick with blood and other things, is one of desperation and one that is a half growl at the man turned into a weapon. But none the less, he never stops, not ever. Considering the foundation of things, you listen to your superiors, your masters. They pay you, they feed you, they give you missions. The soldier bites down aggressively on the side of Rumlow's neck.   
  
He's nothing but a snake making sure it's prey behaves. And that's almost always what is deemed normal on soldier's mind. The dehumanization over the years, has made him a monster that kills, rapes, and is even a slut for HYDRA. But right now this isn't about pleasure, it's about sending a message, order only comes through pain. And the effects are there and evident, when he has his way with the strike member, leaving blood and dried semen in his wake. Bloody fingerprints left across the skin, bites that will turn into scares, a grim reminder.   
  
The leaving of the room, leaving the man bound and bloody, and hisses escaping his mouth. The praise he gets the moment he steps out of the room. Pierce's fingers running across the asset's hair, in some twisted codependency that is borderline Stockholm syndrome in anyone that is sane eyes.   
  
"That's right, you precious boy.   
You wouldn't do anything I wouldn't do."   
  
And the fucked up thing is, he wouldn't. Because missions come first, before praise, before being treated as human and not some toy. And he'll beat and break a man if it means he has a shot of not doing it for a night, or being on the receiving end for once, not that it matters to anyone. But he settles at the wicked man's side- the master of all things, itching for praise like a dog. And maybe even a treat, and he closes his eyes when fingers slip into his hair.   
  
"You deserve a small treat for your efforts tonight. Come."   
  
Without a word he follows, blood dripping from his metallic fingers, an animal always listens to it's master, you don't bite the hand that feeds. 


End file.
